


Broodtober 2020

by BoyMother



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Breeding, F/M, Girl with a Dick, Impregnation, Kinktober, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Mini-stories, Mpreg, Multi, Vampire/Human, Vampires, broodtober, broodtober 2020, femboy, soft boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:59:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26810002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyMother/pseuds/BoyMother
Summary: Broodtober 2020! A series of mini-prompts based on a list I have posted to my twitter!Enjoy the mpreg!
Kudos: 27





	Broodtober 2020

Victor could scarcely recognize himself in the mirror. A long bath and new garments had revolutionized his image. Gone was the dirty peasant boy in potato sack clothing, half starved from famine. He had been fed and cared for and spoiled here. His skin now shone with ruby red youthfulness and his frame, while still small and frail, no longer showed all the sharp edges of hunger. He was soft. He was cared for. Yet despite all this, he was deeply anxious of the night to come.  
His village had been decimated by famine and many had died. As one of the few remaining young men, he was tasked with the long journey to the nearest town to sell everything he could carry and bring back grain. He had been his family’s last hope for survival and he had failed, robbed of everything and left to die, not even a league beyond the mountain pass. In that moment of doom, laid out and dying on the road, he had prayed for a miracle. And what was prayed for was received. Not from heaven above, but from hellfire below. A passing lord had found his barely conscious body and took pity on him. He was brought to an immense but lonely castle in deep folds of the mountains and nursed back to health. The Lord of the strange estate delivered him his three gifts. The first was his life, snatched from the jaws of death himself. The second was an abundance of grain, delivered by horse to his village. And the third was a banquet platter piled high with the severed heads of the bandits that attacked him, all drained of blood. In this final gruesome gift the Lord’s true nature was revealed. A vampire. An undead demon of hell walking among and feeding on the living. If he had his freedom, he would have hastily absconded from the cursed place just as any good christian would. But even disregarding the impassable cliffs surrounding the estate, he was not free to leave. The Lord had made clear that his “gifts” were not without price. The delivery of grain was conditional on his continued stay in the vampiric estate, and his agreement to the Lord’s plans for him.   
He had agreed, of course. What choice did he have? What a strange fate he had found himself in. And yet, despite the absurdity of it all, he could not find revulsion within himself. He had fooled himself into dread at first, but it was only a ruse. A facade put up for none other than himself. When he looked in the mirror now, on the evening before his visit to the Lord’s chamber, he realized that dread was merely misinterpreted anxiety...and infatuation.   
He was dressing garments of white, loose and flowing in places, flush to his skin in others. His neck, collarbones, shoulders, waist, belly, and nearly the entirety of his legs were left exposed. It was hardly suitable for a christian woman, let alone a man as himself. Though as he gazed upon himself, he thought that perhaps he was not much of a christian or of a man at all. And perhaps he was secretly pleased with that. He looked so delicate like this. His skin, soft and ripe for bruising, his legs long and thin like a maiden’s. He had always felt inadequate in the passed down clothing of his father and brothers’. Paradoxically, in this exotic garment he felt at home.   
He let himself be led down the hall by the Lord’s servants. Though he craved what was coming, his desire was rivaled by his nerves. He fixated on the cool stone against his bare feet, the air against his inner thighs, and the steady beat of his heart. Before he had time to fully prepare, he was delivered, thrust inside without a word. 

She awaited him, standing beside the bed. It was a far more luxurious bed then he had ever laid eyes on, but he hardly noticed it was even. All his attention was focused on her, the Vampire Lord. She was tall, taller than any man in his village, with dark beautiful features. Her fiery hair fell in a mess of curls down her back, her eyes alight with lust of many kinds.   
“Come.” She called him, and he approached. He had never felt smaller or weaker...or more desired.   
“You know my terms. I had imagined you would have fled by now, or at least tried.” He voice, deep and beautiful and hypnotic, reached inside him and pulled out his true desires.   
“I accept them. All of them. I am here… I am here to give you blood…”  
“And you will receive as well, won’t you?”   
His mind spun with the weight of his decision, it would change his life forever. He had never wanted anything more.   
“Yes. Yes. Yes please. Please, I want it.”   
“Eager. I love that. You were a gift, you know. A gift to me alone. Precious thing, you are anxious aren’t you? Don’t fret. I intend to make use of you now.”

She seized him and pulled him close, and everything from then on that night melted in utter sensuousness and desire. Memory was not quite able to keep up. He felt her pierce his neck and the hot trickle down over his nipple. He felt the unique sensation of being fed upon while he begged her to drink more and more. And when she was finished feeding, she sated other needs, spreading his legs with a violent force and claiming his virgin hole. She was larger than expected, but that only increased the fervor with which he accepted her into himself. Willing her deeper inside, clawing her back as he moaned for what was both his price and ultimate reward. Begging her to finish already and deliver him into his new life.   
Finally, before dawn, her hand gripped his throat and she spoke,   
“I’m nearly... there.... Are you ready, Mortal? To bear the child of a Vampire?”   
“P-PLEASE! I will be g-good! I will be a good mother… I promise, I will… I will!” He sobbed, his cheeks sticky with tears and blood.   
“Tell me you want it! Beg for the privilege to bear my young!”   
“My Lord, I...I will… I will give you everything. My b-body, my mind, my w-womb, my SOUL! Allow me this life, please… I beg.”   
She nearly crushed his throat as she came, flooding the inside of him, transforming his once barren form into something new. His body went limp, his reward now won. He curled himself against her chest and clung, greedy for every part of her. She reciprocated with her own possessive nature. And as they slept tangled, withing Victor began to brew the new era of the Vampire.


End file.
